All She Would Ever Know
by Momoiro Usagi
Summary: Lust didn't trust her, but still she found herself returning to her time and time again. DantexLust


_"I would have thee gone, and yet no further than a wanton's bird, who lets it hop a little from her hand, like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyres, and with a silk thread plucks it back again, so loving-jealous of his liberty"- Romeo and Juliet, Act 2 Scene 2_

Lust's shadow dragged out behind her as she paced down the forest path, an autumn breeze ruffling around her flawless cheeks. Her hands itched with agitation, but she quickly brushed it aside, forcing her amethyst gaze to focus on something, anything, as she stared out across rows of gnarled tree trunks. She smelled of blood and death, but it was a smell she had long ago become accustomed to.

However, it was the memories, the afterthoughts of the massacre, that weighted each step, eliciting hesitation and even fear. The two chimeras had given their lives for him. They had died to protect a Homunculus. What value had they seen in Greed's soulless existence? What about him had inspired them to action, when all she could do was stand by, numbly following the orders of her master?

She had waited in that empty room, her boots drenched with the remnants of their wasted lives, and she had wept for the very first time. Her leader had always insisted there was no value to her life: that she was cold and unfeeling and isolated from the human world, and yet for some reason she felt a closeness to them. She longed for something more: understanding. But still she had acted without a conscience in their slaughter. She was a pawn, a monster even. And for what?

For Dante. The woman who had promised to grant her a pardon for her unconscious sins and deliver her into the living world. It was all Lust wanted, and yet, remembering the chimeras' determined grins as they dashed to their deaths, she had to wonder if she was searching for it in all the wrong places.

She hesitated, but she never stopped, her feet dragging her forward in a mournful march, the mansion rising up before her like a daunting prison gate. Dante had turned her into something malleable and weak; she always returned, even when the very thought of seeing the woman's smug face turned her stomach. Her ivory hands scaled the banister, rattling warily at the door, tracing over the lines of the crumbling mansion in bitter remembrance. This was her cage, sealing her away forever.

Or until she finally brought the other woman what she wanted. But somehow Lust suspected that Dante's list of desires was as infinite as the stars, unobtainable even in a hundred lifetimes. She would never truly be satisfied.

"Oh, Lust!" A familiar face appeared just beyond the room's threshold, shadows framing her flushed cheeks. But the face and the voice didn't match. The young girl's eyes twinkled with knowledge far beyond her years; her lips twisted up into an unmistakable smirk. "Such a shame. It seems you just missed the party!"

"Master." Bowing mechanically, Lust didn't flinch. The servant girl was dead, but she had expected that.

It seemed everyone who crossed paths with this commanding woman ended up broken sooner or later.

"I see you didn't finish off Greed as I requested." Closing the door behind them, Dante spun on her heels, stalking around the room with purposeful steps. The candlelight fell in stripes across her velvet-clad shoulders: a halo she certainly didn't deserve. "But never mind that. Edward has already done the honors for us."

"He's dead?"

"Yes, of course. But he deserved it."

Lust's fists clenched behind her back: long, clammy fingers twisting together into a knot. A homunculus was not supposed to die. She had always known that, and yet she couldn't ignore the magenta stains stretching out across the ballroom floor, spelling out a tale contrary to everything she had ever held to be true. A cold whisper hung between the two women, but Lust didn't dare utter what she was feeling. Instead she kept her head low, forever stuck in a gesture of subordination.

She would always trail behind this woman, clinging to some hope, no matter how insubstantial it was, that she might someday become human. She had no other choice; she was already too twisted to flee.

Her world had already become distorted under the skilled fingers of a witch.

"Oh, Lust?" Hollow footsteps paused; large, violet eyes turned back to meet her gaze. Standing at the foot of a marble staircase, Dante looked so small and frail, but the Homunculus knew all too well this was an illusion. "You never said anything about my new body!"

"I'm sorry."

"Well?" Giggling like a schoolgirl asking a friend for advice, the older woman spun in a circle, extending her slender arms in a dance only she seemed to know. Her skirt billowed around her waist, revealing shapely legs and flawless skin to the muggy air. "What do you think?"

Dante's presence warped the world around her into something evil. Even when the sun was shining, Lust could still feel the threat of a storm hovering above them, darkness rolling in behind her lightless gales of laughter. She often wore a smile, but it spoke of nothing more than ill will: a sliver of her selfish plans painting her carefully-constructed façade. This girl's body had once been beautiful: a little doll in her master's collection of toys. But when Dante wore that skin, it suddenly became imposing and wicked, eliciting pangs of dread deep within the empty cavities of Lust's heart.

Lust understood very little of the beauty in the mortal world, and yet, staring up at Dante's cloudy smirk, she knew her master would never fill that role. No amount of sacrifice could ever transform a monster into a human, or so the alchemists insisted.

"Lust?" Scurrying across the tiled floor, the smaller woman took her hand, wrapping lithe fingers around her wrist. She tugged once; well-concealed strength flowed from her gentle touch. "Why won't you answer me?"

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking."

"Oh, Lust." Small fingers slithered through locks of raven hair, lingering just behind the Homunculus' ear. The caress burned Lust's icy flesh, but she didn't pull away, instead stooping down to grant the alchemist access to her back and shoulders. She knew this routine all too well, and feared what might happen if she didn't oblige. "I really hope that business with Greed didn't trouble you. He was disobedient. He deserved to die!"

Lust said nothing, clenching her fists together, still acutely aware of the metallic scent of blood lingering on her nails.

"But you," Dante stretched up onto her toes, nuzzling the expanse of Lust's chest, letting each word drip from her tongue as she drew in a jagged breath. "You have nothing to worry about, as long as you stay here with me. I'll take care of you forever."

The walls around them rose up like an iron cage: ornate columns stood in place of bars, stretching their unmoving arms towards the ceiling. Lust found no safety between those walls, but instead felt stifled by the heat licking at her cold lips. Dante moved in closer, crushing her, forcing her down onto the staircase with one purposeful shove. And she dropped down before the other woman, lacking the strength to resist.

Her obedience was the only thing keeping her alive. She worked for this woman not to gain her freedom, but to spare herself from an untimely end. There was no assurance of heaven or rebirth for one living without a soul, so she had taken a painful vow to the only redeemer she had ever known, regardless of if she believed her empty promises or not.

Lust had once thought this to be the only way. But suddenly, as she prostrated herself before demanding feet, hiding her clawed hands under heavy hair, she realized that some things were even worse than death.

"You're so perfect." Purring softly, Dante dropped to her knees, scooping up the Homunculus' larger figure in an awkward embrace. "My finest creation." Nimble fingers cascade down Lust's back; the alchemist cooed in her ear, letting her tongue dart out from between her lips, nibbling coyly at the bone just behind Lust's flawless lobe. "You should be thankful for this, Lust. I worked so hard to give you this beautiful face. You should be grateful for me."

Lust remained perfectly still, trying to ignore the electricity cavorting down her slender neck. But she faltered, shivering slightly, her lips going slack as the other woman dragged her down into a demanding kiss. She was supposed to be numb to these sensations, but she wasn't. Her mouth opened; she humbly gave her master permission to continue, failing to gag even when she tasted the sweetness of rotten flesh caressing her tongue.

Dante's latest sacrifice was already slipping away. The girl's body was wasted on a rotten heart.

"You like this, don't you?"

"Yes, master."

Scooting up onto Lust's hips, Dante pressed against her, capturing her hand in a crushing hold. "Then touch me." She dragged the Homunculus' fingers down her dainty jaw line and across the soft curves of her collar, letting her eyes slide closed with a contented whimper. Lust saw only selfish desire on her face, but she didn't pull away. It wasn't the first time she had soothed corrupted skin.

Dipping forward, Lust unfastened the clasps on the alchemist's neatly-pressed dress, pushing it down to her waist as she cupped her palm around a single, perky breast. Kneading gently at the hardened nub, she watched as porcelain flesh flushed with blood; Dante's powers of deception were as real as ever, mimicking virginity in the most convincing of ways.

"This body pleases you, doesn't it, my dear Lust?"

Lust nodded mechanically; she bit back a grimace as her master forced her down, splaying out her hand on the back of her neck. Her lips traveled across the woman's flat abdomen, tracing over wiry muscle with satin kisses, letting dramatic moans guide her actions and never allowing herself to question her motives. If she permitted her mind to believe she had the ability to choose her fate, she would be torn apart and forsaken by the only mother she had ever known.

Dante threw back her head; she had become a star in her own mind, draping wanton legs up onto Lust's thighs, stretching out across the grand staircase like a siren reclining on the ocean's glimmering shore. "More," she commanded, lifting her skirt, staring up at the Homunculus with a flirtatious grin. "I know you want this."

But Lust had forgotten what she really wanted long ago. It had been beaten from her mind; it had been choked out by a breathless kiss, stripped away by the knobby touch of her old caretaker. The hand that had raised her up had broken her apart, melding her into a slave. And now there was no escape.

The Homunculus' hand slipped down between them, exploring firm skin, sliding up the crease where leg met hip. Dante was already wet, her thighs slick with the evidence of her desire. Bowing down before her, Lust allowed her tongue to dart out, letting the musky droplets collect on her lifeless lips, nuzzling thick curls with her cheek.

A flood of strong emotions bubbled deep within her eggshell body, but Lust ignored them, focusing on the task at hand. A homunculus was not supposed to feel the brazen flush of passion or the weight of apprehension. A homunculus was not supposed to love or hate.

"You're perfect," a voice above her whispered; Dante's hips squirmed, thrusting up into her skilled lips. "Almost as perfect as me."

Lust closed her eyes, forcing herself to notice only on the taste and smell: the musky evidence of her satisfying performance. Sucking on inflamed lips, she reached to spread them, pressing down into the woman's tight opening. The body's innocence was as evident as the mind's impurity; Dante had stolen everything from this girl, and now she was reaping the rewards of her plunder.

But Lust was in no place to damn her creator's actions.

"More." The quiver in Dante's voice was unmistakable, even if her words were harsh and unwavering. Lust sensed the control she had, but she didn't seize it, instead continuing to follow the subtle twitch of the woman's skin. Sliding her lips upward, she found a tiny peak of flesh, humming as she fell into a dexterous rhythm with the tip of her tongue.

Her only purpose was to satisfy the desires of mortal flesh. She had always believed that, but now she wasn't so sure.

Swollen lips burned around her cheeks; Dante's hips jumped, her legs lifted to wrap around Lust's shoulders. The world around the Homunculus was stifling and heavy. She couldn't escape, even if she had the strength to do so. This was her prison; a promise of freedom had become the seal locking her away forever.

Sensing Dante's impending completion, Lust quickened her pace, using her long fingers to probe down into the other woman's body. Muscle spasms rippled around her touch, juices streaking her face. With a scream, Dante fell back into a boneless heap, gazing down at the Homunculus with a satiated grin.

"If I could only have your body, I'd take it." The alchemist's gaze floated towards the ceiling, focusing on some intangible point hovering far above their heads. "But unfortunately I won't accept tainted goods."

Rising to her feet, Lust wiped her face, staring down at the other woman with concealed distaste. Dante would never be satisfied; there weren't enough girls left in the world to grant her the everlasting beauty for which she was so desperately searching.

Lust's heels clicked against the marble floor as she headed to the doorway, but Dante didn't bother chasing after her. Lust wanted to find her own path, but still she knew she had but one home to which she could return.

Scraping her boots on the forest path, she left a trail of magenta blood in her wake: a string leading back to the only savior she would ever know.


End file.
